Hello readers! Happy Fathers Day! I am happy to present this second to last chapter of Act II!

For those of you who have reviewed, I am sorry but I will not be responding to each review personally, however, thank you for all your reviews! I will always love them!

This chapter has a flashback that will be denoted by XxXxX. I hope you enjoy!


"Exactly how the fuck does this seem like a good plan to you!?" Nenin hissed, glaring at Shepard. Zaia glared back at her.

"You have a better idea?" She posed. Nenin pointed at her, jerking a thumb in the direction of the mercs they had seen.

"You get naked and run out there!" She whispered furiously. This whole thing had been going so well up until that point. She had initially been unsure of working with Shepard to find Khan, once they picked her up on Omega. She had been promised intel on her sisters and their whereabouts, which Shepard said she knew.

She had thought that this would only end badly for her. That she had hooked up with the wrong people…until she saw the tattoo on the human's neck. Zaia Shepard had been Talon, the deadliest merc of the last decade. To say that she was surprised wasn't even putting it mildly. The very danger she realized she was in by being anywhere near her was immediately brought into perspective.

She felt only a shred better when Shepard didn't immediately kill her after she noted it. Despite that, she had regretted saying anything at all when she looked back. Why would she tell Talon that she knew exactly what his, or rather her, identity was? Of course, that also brought in the whole thing with the Council and how they said that she had been in a coma in one of their medical facilities. It made her think: was the Council behind Talon the whole time?

Of course she had no time to think of it further. She had to go and be her normal cocky self and ask what would happen if she accidentally told somebody about Shepard being Talon. The threat that came from Shepard was so stark, so diabolical and so…real. Her eyes said that she was deadly serious about it, and although Nenin was never going to say anything before, she definitely wasn't going to now. Hesti and her and been great together, and she found that she loved that asari more than she thought.

Her niece was now her daughter, and she would keep Hesti safe and give her a good life. In a way…she felt good that she knew who Talon was. Maybe…maybe if she needed something, she could call in a favor. Maybe.

She came back to reality when something glinted in front of her face. She looked at the hands that were outstretched to her and found Shepard holding two knives, both of them serrated and long enough to pierce chest and emerge from the back. She looked back up at the human, curiosity lingering in her eyes. What the hell was she going to do with some blades?

"If I'm going to be bait, then you need to kill." Shepard said flatly. Nenin jerked back in surprise. She was a fucking thief! A master of heists! She didn't kill people! At least, not for fun or anything like that. In the three centuries she had been pilfering from others, she had killed maybe a total of twenty times, and always in self-defense. She…she couldn't just kill those men over there. Nenin T'Nirra was a well-known thief, yes, but far less known was her dislike for killing.

She chewed on her lip before finally giving up. She had done this before, but that was always under controlled circumstances. This wasn't controlled. At all. She reluctantly started to unbuckle her leathers, glaring at Shepard the whole time. The human, seemingly uninterested in seeing Nenin undressing, turned to glance back around the corner at the men that they had to remove.

Nenin quickly undressed, all the way down to skin. In a way, being naked in this situation fired her up in ways that were only a distraction right now, but she couldn't help it. There was always a sense of excitement when one was naked in public. She hated what she was about to do…but under different circumstances, she would have been just fine with being naked right behind Zaia Shepard's back.

"Let's get this over with…" She grumbled, shoving her excitement away, wanting to have her leathers back on as soon as possible. Shepard turned back to her, her eyes never once meandering below the asari's. Secretly, Nenin had hoped that Shepard might be a little distracted by her naked body. The proud asari in her gave birth to that notion, but she quickly reminded herself of who she was talking about. Yeah, she was Zaia Shepard.

But she was also Talon. And there was only one thing that Talon had been good at.

"Head out there…act confused and lost. Tell them you can't remember anything about yourself…" Shepard whispered. Nenin stared at her in the same confusion that Shepard wanted her to pretend to be in.

"Exactly what the fuck is that supposed to do!?" She hissed. She knew how to seduce people, and that certainly wasn't the way to do it. Thought, from the way things had been going, she doubted Shepard ever did things the normal way. As she was thinking, Shepard crept away. It was showtime.

She took a deep breath and tried to wear as confused and blank a look as she could. Having played the lost, helpless one before, she had an idea of how it should look. When she was satisfied with it, she slowly walked out into the open, her body flushing from the knowledge that the three strange men would have their eyes on her soon.

She didn't have to wait long until she heard the cock of a rifle. She turned to the sound, looking surprised. "W-where am I?" She called out shakily, her eyes drifting about the place even while keeping the humans in her sight.

The three men exchanged glances with each other. "Where'd you come from?" One called, slowly letting his rifle drop from where it was cocked in his hands. The other two hadn't dropped their rifle barrels yet, but they were almost there. Nenin almost cheered. This was too easy.

"I-I d-don't know!" She whined pitifully. "I can't remember who I am!" As she played the role, she came to the realization that Shepard's plan was brilliant. She had seen before how quickly seemingly helpless, forgetful, and most certainly alone women were taken advantage of. Through all her years as a criminal, she'd seen turians, batarians, salarians and even other asari use a confused young thing's vulnerability for some fun. And the receiving end had been a variety as well. A lot of asari, but also turian females, and most of all, quarians on pilgrimage.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the men grin to each other. Bingo. The bait was set, and now all that had to happen was Shepard coming to her rescue. Literally. She was in the open, completely naked, facing three mercs with assault rifles. Shepard had better come to her fucking rescue.

"Don't worry, darling. We can help you out. Just come with us…" The leader snickered, coming closer to her. As he did, she got more nervous that something had gone wrong with Shepard's plan and that she would have to defend herself. The three men got within fifteen feet of her, and she was about to throw some quick, desperate biotics out when it happened.

It was fast. Almost too fast. She couldn't even tell where Shepard had come from. One second, the man trailing the other two was smirking along with his friends, and then there was a knife buried to the cross guard in his temple, the blade passing all the way through and emerging from the opposite temple. His smirk had still been on his face when he died, and before he even started to fall, Shepard was behind the other two, long, serrated blades in each hand.

The serrated steel plunged through two necks, blood spray almost reaching Nenin, landing just short of her foot. The three mercs hit ground almost at the same time, their wide eyes belying the death that they just experienced. Nenin had never once understood the purpose of using metal bladed weapons in this day and age, but now she fully understood. They were silent. When one was cut with an omni blade, the wound sizzled and popped, something that could alert any other guards or hostile in an area.

The only sound made when Shepard killed with the steel was the nearly nonexistent gurgling that came from severed windpipes. She was frozen to the spot, knowing immediately that the stories that she had heard about Talon's abilities were absolutely in no way exaggerated. The speed and fluidity of her movements suggested absolutely no hesitation or indecision.

"What are you standing there for?" Nenin shook her head clear and looked up. Shepard was staring at her with a scowl, the blades she had used to kill them already sheathed. The asari wordlessly ran back to where her leathers were. She contemplated simply running from there and never looking back. Getting Hesti off world and leaving, going to some place where Shepard could never find them.

With a rush of cruel reality, she realized that that would just be stupid. Shepard was Talon. Talon was…a monster. A killing machine. No matter where she went, Talon would find her. Shepard would find her, and find Hesti. By doing this, she could maybe grant herself and Hesti some sanctuary from Shepard's ruthless presence.

At the same time, it also meant that the overboard threat that she handed out on the ship was entirely true. She had only killed three men, but had done so with such efficient, careless, mindless ease. She would have no trouble torturing someone.

She took a moment to bring herself back to reality. Back to the mission at hand. All she had to do was get Shepard to Khan, and that was all. Maybe she would take it as an act of good faith and leave Nenin alone. She could very well say that she would never, ever do something to cross the human that stood out there. Never.

She threw back on her practiced aura of arrogance and supreme confidence and strode back out. "Let's get down that hall…" She said steadily. Shepard didn't say anything but fell into step. She noticed, with a grimace, that the bodies hadn't been hidden.

She tried her best to not think about the fact that she would probably never know what happened to her if Shepard decided to kill her. She would never know, and Hesti would never know. It was terrible, and it was bleak, but it was true. She had to do anything to keep Shepard from putting her in the crosshairs.

The two of them crept down the tunnel, careful to not make a sound. It was lit at regular intervals, so there was no chance of hiding in any type of darkness. If someone was at the end of this tunnel, like more mercs, they would be fish in a barrel. A quick glance behind her saw Shepard with a small blade in each hand. If what she just saw was any indication, chances were that Shepard could be just as deadly with a throwing blade as she could be with a pistol.

Luckily enough, the tunnel was empty, meaning that those three were the only ones guarding it. At the end, they found a simple lobby with a reasonably large elevator. The doors were already open, and Shepard stepped onto it carefully. "Where does this go?" She asked quietly, looking around, probably searching for traps.

Nenin pulled up the scan she'd had made of the building. "This goes straight to the top…opens up into a hallway…with only a single room at the end of it…"

"Khan's office…" Shepard whispered to nobody. Nenin nodded absently. It certainly looked like a similar hallway that she had been led down when she came here meet with him. She had noticed the sleek silver doors in that hall, but had figured that they led to another conference room or something similar. Those were the doors to this elevator shaft.

"Come on…let's finish this…" Shepard said, standing next to a control panel. Nenin climbed on the elevator while Shepard hacked the panel. The faster that they finished this, the faster she could go back to Hesti and never have to lay eyes on Shepard, or Talon, again.

XXX

The panel was pretty heavily protected on the inside, so it took Shepard almost ten full minutes to hack into it. While she had been in the middle of it, she came across alarm protocols that were designed to go off if unauthorized use of the elevator was activated, and she gleefully deactivated those. That sniveling little prick would never know she was coming.

Finally, she broke the protection and sent the elevator to motion. She was so close now. So close to ending this nightmare that was Temujin Khan. It was hard to believe that, after all this time, he would be the one who was the target of her fury. She should have killed him when she had the chance, all those years ago in Ulaanbaatar.

XxXxX

She glared at the screen, her anger bubbling in a controlled inferno behind her green eyes. There was no fucking point to making her a Commander. She had no interest in leading anyone. No interest in making a career out of anything. She flung the data pad back onto the desk, swearing under her breath. She had a meeting in five minutes with her chief handler, David Anderson, to discuss her new position. More like he would talk and she would sit there silently.

She stormed through the halls, glaring at the tiles, still fuming. She had never fucked up. Every mission she had ever departed on had been a one hundred percent success in every field required. She was fast, efficient and she didn't leave witnesses. What had she done to deserve this fucking punishment?

The door slid open, revealing a bustling mess. This fucking base was filled to the brim with idiots, men and women, fresh out of basic. Newbies all believing that they'll be the next war hero. She despised them. She despised everyone. Horny little fuckers rode their post-basic training high and thought that they could get anything with a hole or a pole into bed. Be that man or woman, or animal as she had seen in some places, didn't matter. She didn't care. She hated them all. Her pace increased until she was out of the mess and into the crammed office wing of the base.

The Alliance base at Ulaanbaatar was easily the most underfunded, overpopulated and poorly run bases on all of Earth. The only reason she was here was because she had run a stealth op to recover intelligence regarding a terror cell. Mission accomplished, of course.

Original plans had her on a shuttle to Arcturus for a different mission. Something had dragged her to this shit hole. She didn't look at the intel she recovered; she never looked. It was the objective, that's all. It held no interest for her. Only mission completion interested her. The goal. She didn't give a shit what the intel actually was, but it was important. For someone high up apparently, if they used her to get it.

Zaia Shepard was easily the deadliest and the best of the N7 agents. There was hardly a standing agent who could hope to stand on even ground with her in nearly any situation. Not to mention that most would be dead before they knew what to look for. Shepard was a ghost in the shadows, fast and vicious with anything that could cause death.

She could put a bullet into an eyeball at a thousand meters with a sniper rifle, or she could slit a throat up close. Other than that, her pistols did the talking; she never spoke. It was almost her trademark. If she gave a shit about such things.

She got to Anderson's door and slapped the lock, the door sliding open to allow her in. The dark skinned Captain sat behind his desk, a stern look on his face as he looked through some pads piled in front of him. Standing to his left and pointing things out to the Captain was small, skinny little secretary.

"I assume you read the briefing?" Anderson grunted without looking up. She stood stock still in front of his desk, glaring at the top of his head. Finally, after a minute of silence, he looked up at her.

"I'll take that as a no. Sit down." He gestured to the seat next to her. The man standing with him gave her a condescending look.

"I didn't see you salute upon entry...what exactly is your rank?" He prodded. Loaded statement. Director, yes, but with obvious insecurities about command and respect that require validation from others. Military protocol of saluting superior officers provides avenue for that validation. Without the salute, validation doesn't come and insecurities rise. She only glared at him and sat down. Anderson gestured to him.

"She's N7. Shepard, this is Operations Director Temujin Khan. He is...dissatisfied with your report from the last mission." Anderson said, staring at her intently. She knew what he was saying with that stare. He had been her handler for many years, and he had trained her into an unspoken language when it came to dealing with military situations.

"No answer? Typical. No accountability anymore," Khan droned, crossing his arms behind his back and pacing around to her side of the desk. She kept her eyes set on Anderson, reading his unspoken cues and orders. "You reported mission success, but apart from that you said nothing else. This report is pathetic!" He yelled the last bit, pointing at the pad that was in Anderson's hand currently.

Her handler flicked his eyes towards the director, and she responded in kind, turning her glare back onto the annoying little man. His voice itself grated on her nerves. "I have nearly five thousand privates on this base who could submit a report ten times as thorough as this!" He tapped his ear. "Send Major Eshek-Bok in here please!" He ordered.

Anderson sighed and rested his head on his knuckles. "Director, what is the point of all this?" He asked tiredly. Shepard had noticed bags under his eyes, a telltale slump in his eyelids and a lack of quick eye movement. How tired Anderson actually was didn't matter to her. He just gave the orders. She did the missions.

"My point, Captain, will become clear soon. I don't know how this agent of yours managed to be given such a commendation from Admiral Hackett..." Zaia zoned him out when she heard the name. Hackett. Only met the man twice since she was pressed into the N program. He was, as Heinrich had called him, her single lifeline. She didn't know what he had to do with this Commander bullshit, but he was an Admiral. Whatever he wanted he got.

The door slid open behind her, but she didn't bother to turn and look. Judging by the heavy way the boots fell on the shitty tile flooring, it was a man, weighing in over two hundred and fifty pounds at least.

"Ah, Major Bok! I'm glad you are here," Khan exclaimed. Zaia heard a slap and guessed that the director must have clapped his soldier on the shoulder. "We have a mission for you. This is Captain David Anderson, N7 designation." She heard the near hero-worship ringing in the directors voice. Fucking pathetic.

"It is an honor, Captain." The Major had a deep voice. Deep, but soft. No edge or attempt at control. Natural voice. He wasn't a violent man. Most likely a gentle giant, pacifist type. Probably become a soldier for some stupid notion like helping the poor and unfortunate.

"Likewise, Major. Please meet Zaia Shepard, N7 designation." Anderson gestured to her with a brief but official smile. She still had not turned to look at the man behind her.

"Zaia Shepard? You...you're a legend! One of the best to ever grace the Alliance!" She heard a footstep or two coming closer and felt her muscles coil. Anderson must have noticed it and held up his hand.

"Don't touch her, son." He warned. "Save yourself some grief and pain." The footsteps stopped, and an awkward silence followed. Good thing Anderson warned him. The last person to touch her from behind got a broken wrist for their troubles.

"Well. Major, you along with another of your choosing shall be accompanying Shepard on a-"The director started before she interrupted.

"I work alone." She grunted. Anderson, looking past her, shrugged hopelessly. If this whole idea of her working with a team had been Khan's idea, then chances were that Anderson had told him that she never worked with others. She used to. Worked in teams for the better part of four years. Until they finally realized that she worked best alone.

"You will work with whoever I tell you to work with! Is that clear?" Khan snapped angrily.

Zaia surged to her feet, whipping around and producing a large serrated blade at the same time. She grabbed the director and slammed him against the wall, the blade pressed to his neck.

"I don't take orders from you." She growled, her green eyes boring into the directors. His own beady little pupils were shaking and flicking about fearfully.

"Anderson! Why did you stop Major Bok!?" He stammered. Zaia glanced behind her. The corporal had a pistol drawn and pointed at her, but at the same time, Anderson was holding his hand out, calling for the man to stop.

"I stopped him because I didn't want him to die," Anderson said simply. Smart. The captain knew that if that little fucker behind her had done anything she would have shredded him without a second thought. "Shepard, sit the fuck down." He ordered.

She sheathed the blade and let the director go, the man slapping a hand to his neck as he heaved for breath. Zaia took her seat again and glared at the wall.

"Now, Director, I warned you. Shepard is N7; way above your pay grade. She takes her orders from me, and I get her orders from my superiors. If you would like to order her around, then I suggest you go and find a way to become an Admiral in the next ten minutes. I brought you into this so you can have input, not so you can try and throw your meager weight around. And, on a more personal note…don't fuck with her. For your own safety, don't fuck with her." Anderson said harshly. Zaia didn't need Anderson to defend her actions. She had been living with her own decisions since she was six.

"Shepard, do something like that again and I will personally put a bullet between your eyes. Clear?" She nodded curtly at the captain, knowing that he was full of shit. She knew how the captain was; he was just as fucking annoyed with the director as she was. He was just saying that to put up the idea that she isn't just getting away with holding the director at knife point.

"Now. Shepard, you will be working with Major Bok and one more on a joint mission."

"What is the mission?" She demanded. She heard some sputtering behind her.

"That's all? When I was saying that, she tried to kill me!" Khan complained. Anderson glared past Zaia at the director, the irritation clear on his features.

"She takes orders from me, Director." He growled. She did. Not willingly, but she did. She knew the game. She had been taking orders from Anderson since she was eighteen, and had known the man since she was fourteen. She listened to him and she didn't have to deal with bullshit.

"You'll be lifted from here and sent to the spaceport in Beijing, where you'll rendezvous with carrier SSV Einstein en route to the Citadel. Your mission handler will meet you there." Anderson explained. Zaia nodded through her irritation. He hadn't said what the mission was, only that she was headed to Beijing, and then off world. No other reason to be going on a carrier.

She stormed out of the room to wait. She didn't carry much with her when she traveled. She lived out of two bags when not at base in Rio. A medium sized duffel, containing three sets of the same clothes: black panties and sports bra, black turtleneck, skintight black pants, black boots. Along with that, she kept a single black trench coat for when she wasn't wearing armor.

Her other duffel contained weaponry. A case inside it contained her sniper rifle, a powerful, late Volkov model. Along with that, it carried four pistols, all high end N7 models, and then numerous blades, both serrated and not. Zaia grew up using knives as her only defense, and as such always had a respectable number of them with her.

On her person, right now, she carried four, all embedded in secret compartments of her Titan armor. One on her hip, one in each forearm, and one in her left boot. Three were serrated while one was perfectly weighted for throwing. Modern armor and shielding usually rendered her blades useless from a distance, but up close she could dispense death with ease.

Every blade she had was specially re-tempered by Rosenkov Materials for hardness and durability. Up close, she could ram a knife through most light and medium armors and only have minimal risk for the blade to shatter. If she was ever close enough to someone wearing heavy armor to need a blade, then she fucked up badly and a knife probably wouldn't help at that point.

Her omni buzzed. It was Anderson.

Depart 0500 tomorrow.

She noted the time in her mental schedule and kept walking to the small room that had been hers while she worked here. She would sleep. Maybe. Probably just spend the time sharpening her blades.

Later that evening, she was walking back from the mess hall, having eaten some fruit and an egg. She didn't eat much, mostly because of her training and mostly because the food served her tasted like shit. She had heard nothing more from Anderson, so she had nothing better to do than go sleep. Or meditate. Anything to get away from people.

While she walked, she noticed a group of soldiers standing outside her room. She quickly scanned across them. All large and thick except one, each of those four probably spent more time in the gym than the field. All five patches denoted these soldiers as corporals, meaning low class soldiers. Chances are they spend time together due to circumstantial or joint experiences. Two have visible facial scarring, whether from combat or not unknown. One quite noticeably a fighter or brawler of some type. Nose heavily deformed from multiple breaks.

Three have large bicep and tricep bulges, as well as prominent trapezius growth. Legs are similarly built, with two having smaller calf muscles than the other three. One has unusual location of left knee cap, indicative of a previously broken or possible shattered bone which was subsequently repaired through surgery. One has extensive muscle growth across entire body structure; if hostilities ensure, candidate for priority elimination.

Other two carry unnecessary storage of extra fat around chest, not indicative of strength or stamina. Lower priority hostiles.

One has large tattoos covering his arms and emerging from collar of shirt on neck. Looked like tribal designs, but not meaningful ones. Tattoos to impress, not for belief. No presence of animals or other such designs often associated with warriors or prowess. No presence of intricate design or unique scripture; pointless body art.

Of the two fatter individuals, one is out of place. Little muscle prominence, as well as large fat deposits on midsection, arms, hands and neck. Face reasonably fatty. His purpose here unknown, but he is of little danger. All five men unarmed, and no suspicious shapes beneath military fatigues.

Conclusion: no threat. She walked straight through the group, ignoring the stares of the corporals as she clicked the control to her room. It opened, but there was already someone inside. Director Khan stood in her room, looking with disgust at the few things she carried with her. Her armor sat on her bed, organized and cleaned. She wore normal clothes with here trench coat.

"Get out." She demanded, stepping back to give him the room to leave. The Director turned an annoyed eye on her, tsking.

"You forget something, Zaia Shepard. This is my base. Mine. You do not order me around in my base." He sneered. "And I think you need to be reminded of that. That little stunt you pulled earlier today doesn't fly here. You had Anderson to protect you then, but not now…" A hand clamped down on her shoulder, and she reached down and pressed an emergency button on her omni. An alert just went out.

"N7 protocol states that you cannot impede me in any way. Leave, or I am at liberty to protect myself with deadly force." She droned out, repeating the single phrase that Anderson had spent years drilling into her head.

Khan tsked at her again. "No, you see, that's what they are here for." He pointed behind her, a smirk on his face.

"Second warning: stop, or I shall respond with deadly force." She said, her muscles beginning to tense and a dark demon inside her head beginning to cackle maniacally as she smelled blood in the air.

Khan shook his head. "You must just be that stupid. They are going to teach you that nobody fucks with me, N7 bitch or not. So, I would change you tu-"

Zaia whipped around, grabbing the wrist on her shoulder and snapping it like a twig. Before its owner had time to scream, she had produced her scorpion blade from her jacket and slit his throat, blood spilling onto the floor. She ducked a haphazard swing from another soldier, her now free hand sliding easily into her jacket and grasping a serrated blade.

The two blades whistled as they slashed across a second soldier's chest, slicing straight through to organs. Without direct medical attention, he would bleed out in six minutes. Before he even hit ground, Shepard had planted her serrated blade hilt deep in a third soldier's eye, severing the optic nerve and likely piercing the brain. Irreparable frontal lobe damage and most likely death the result.

The two who remained alive quickly departed, getting as far from her as they could. Khan, who had been frozen to his spot as she dispensed with three soldiers in barely a few seconds backed away from her. Back into her own room.

"Y-you're insane!" He yelled. "They'll court martial you! T-they'll execute you!"

"You impeded me, as well as assaulted me. I was at right to protect myself. Recorded evidence will reflect." She droned. She had to say that, but in truth she didn't care at all. They tried to mess with her. She killed them gladly. As she would now kill Khan, gladly. Her blade rose as she prepared to end Khan, but she never got to.

"Shepard! Stand down!" As reflex took over, she immediately sheathed the scorpion blade and went through her omni, creating a data chip and handing it over to Anderson.

"Audio and visual recording of events that led to this." She grunted. Khan stood on shaky legs, pointing an equally shaky finger at Shepard.
"Anderson, I want her executed! She murdered those men in cold bloo-"

"No, she didn't," Anderson interrupted. "She warned you that she was going to act. You and your boys didn't listen. That's your problem." He walked into the room, kneeling down until he was face to face with the still shaking director.

"I warned you not to fuck with her Khan. Especially her." Khan swallowed deeply, his eyes venturing over Andersons shoulder to stare at Zaia. She stared back wordlessly, silently wishing that Anderson would have at least let her kill that stupid director. She zoned out as Anderson spoke to Khan, not caring what was being said. There was no damage control to be done. That chip she had given him had proof that she followed N7 protocol and gave fair warning before acting.

Anderson finished talking to the director and turned to her. "Pack up. We're leaving now." He stomped out of the room. Shepard glared into her room as Khan slowly, shakily got to his feet. He inched out the door and just past her, finally getting clear and all but sprinting away from the door. She looked around herself at the three dead bodies.

She scoffed at them and gathered her few belongings and equipment. Their deaths were their own fault. They decided to partner themselves with that pathetic Khan idiot. Their chosen path led them to their deaths at her hand. It irked her that Khan escaped with his life and she only killed the three soldiers. Not that she didn't enjoy killing them.

She would always enjoy killing them.

XxXxX

Back then, she had been just a killing machine. She was far different now, but when she found Khan? She would be just as ruthless and cold as that day. The elevator rose slowly, but with every foot, Shepard's Woedes began to run hotter and hotter, the anger pushing her self-control. She fought it; not because she wanted to not be angry when she got to the top. She wanted to be in control so she could enjoy watching Khan die.


This was the penultimate chapter of Act II! Next chapter is the culmination of this Act, and it will be a long one! That being said, I may or may not be done with it for next Sunday. I will do my best.

Show the review button some love and I hope you all have a good week and a Happy Fathers Day!